Lyra’s POV
"Lyra, stop fussing over me." Maren laughed softly as she caught my wrist before I could place another cool cloth against her forehead. "I'm fine."
"You nearly burned alive," I reminded her.
"And yet..." She spread her arms with a grin. "Here I am."
I sighed, finally giving in and setting the cloth aside.
The healers had worked tirelessly for the last several hours. Thankfully, Maren's burns hadn't been severe enough to leave permanent scars. A thick herbal salve coated the reddened skin on her arms and neck, taking away much of the pain and discoloration.
Her dress, however, was ruined beyond repair. Seeing it folded in the corner of the infirmary made my stomach twist.
“I suppose I kind of owe you my life,” Maren said, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.
A small laugh
